From England, With Love

Stiff Beginnings

I struggle, in this moment, to think of a more awkward time in my life. He definitely recognises me – I know because once he meets my eyes, his face goes red and he looks down.

Good start. Excellent.

"Hello," he says politely, in that nervous but gentle voice. His hands are clasped in his lap and his shoulders are drawn upwards as if he were trying to fit in a tight space. It looks uncomfortable, tense.

"Good morning," I say back, trying to smile but in all honesty, I don't know what to do. There's something about him that makes my brain not function, and I fear if I say anything more I'll make a fool of myself. That wouldn't be the first time today.

The teacher stands, in that way he does; importantly yet anti-climatically. He passes his desk and approaches a table, on which is a kettle.

"Would either of you like some tea?" He asks, opening the mini fridge and extracting a bottle of milk. This is so incredibly awkward. I can tell he's trying to make the mood light, but to be honest I feel like melting into the floor would be better...

No.

Stop it.

This isn't like me.

I gather all my conviction, try to return myself to my natural self. I shouldn't be as lost as this.

"No, thank you. I think I should show Pete around." I say, with mock confidence.

Pete remains in his chair, fiddling with the edge of his tie. I can tell he wants to say no, but I won't let him. After all, I understand how he must be feeling right now. I was terrified when I first walked in to this place, so I can't imagine what a gentle guy like him must be feeling.

"Oh! Marvellous idea, Ae. Let me just grab Pete's timetable..." leaving the kettle to finish boiling, he returns to his desk and briefly searches through the pile of papers, files, and whatever else, before dramatically pulling a sheet of paper from within the abyss.

"How convenient, Pete has a free period! How exciting for you," he hands the boy the piece of paper, and I watch him reluctantly accept it. I don't think he understands his humour.

"Thank you," he says, "I look forward to seeing more of the school." As he stands, I notice that his waist is quite small. He picks up his coat. It's thin, like him. He'll freeze in that.

"You'll need that. It's cold out there." I speak in Thai, not English, and laugh as his head whips up. He smiles lightly.

How sweet.

"What was that?" The teacher asks, putting his used tea bag in the bin.

"Oh, nothing. We'll be going now."

I head the door and pull it open. Pete quickly gathers his bag and comes toward me, expectantly like a child. I feel, in a sense, that I have taken the place of Jack. I have graduated from in-need-of-help to help giver. I smile to myself.

I decide to continue to speak in Thai. It makes sense to, really, that way we can talk more easily – and things are awkward enough as it is. I head out of the block.

"So what subjects are you doing?" I ask, knowing now that the chances are he's not here for sport.

"Oh, um, History, Economics and Politics."

Oh damn, so he's smart. Interesting.

"Ah, I see. I'm doing Physical Education, Biology and Maths."

Pete nods.

Remembering that most of the humanities are in the same building, I head toward it, turning onto a ramp. Pete hangs back, maybe two or three paces behind me. His steps are quiet but I can still feel him behind me like some kind of lost puppy. Then the bell rings. A few seconds later, the door at the top of the ramp bursts open and children (screaming, as usual) come flooding toward us.